


Burnt

by Lynds



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Draco Malfoy is a Good Boyfriend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Harry Potter gets a Hug, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, Past Child Abuse, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 07:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15836961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/pseuds/Lynds
Summary: It's a stupid little thing. Sure, it's irritating that Harry burned dinner and destroyed a frying pan. And yes, maybe Draco did get a bit pissy about it. But surely not enough for Harry to actually look that scared?





	Burnt

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one of those 'Lynds copes with her problems by projecting them onto someone else so she can at least solve something' fics...

“Fuck!” yelled Draco, and dropped the pan he was scraping back onto the hob. "Harry, what did you put in with these burgers?”

Harry appeared at the kitchen door, his hair even more mussed than normal, his glasses crooked. “Uh, what?”

“ _What_ did you put _in_ with the burgers? Anything? Nothing?”

“Chips?”

Draco grit his teeth and turned sharply to run his hand under cold water. “No, you idiot,” he grunted. “I meant like oil or butter. They stuck to the pan, burned, and I can’t get them off. And then I burned myself trying.”

Harry was silent, and Draco felt the irritation rise in his chest. He could at least sympathise, the bastard! He turned his head to see Harry still standing just inside the door. His eyes were very wide and he kept flickering back and forth between Draco’s hands and the ruined food. 

“What?” Draco frowned.

“I’m sorry.” 

And there it was. A flash of _fear_. Draco frowned again. Why would Harry be _afraid?_ Was there something else? Were they evidence for a case, had Draco messed up an investigation thinking it was dinner, what?

“I thought the pan was non-stick.” Harry’s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, and he never even glanced at Draco, or at least not his face.

“Harry, what’s wrong?”

Harry just blinked at him, but not quite in confusion. It was like he was trying to read the correct answer on Draco’s face.

“What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing!”

“OK, well, why do you look so… scared?”

“I’m fine.” He seemed to shake himself, then went to the hob, poking at the food. “I can make hash out of this, with some leeks, and that leftover mash from yesterday.”

Draco nearly shrugged and moved on, but he’d been watching too closely. Harry’s shoulders were still up by his ears. Clearly talking wasn’t working.

He reeled in his automatic response to needle and argue until Harry blurted his problems out in a burst of irritation. This was something different. As ridiculous as it was, given their past, Draco didn’t think he’d ever seen him this nervous before.

He gently took the pan and spatula from him, putting them to the side. Harry was still stiff, eyes flickering around the room like he was looking for an attack. Draco put his arms around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him near. He tangled one hand in his hair and tucked him in close.

For another moment Harry was rigid, almost vibrating. Then he slumped against Draco’s shoulder. When he felt his shirt getting damp he forced himself to stay still and keep petting him.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Harry, his voice smaller than Draco had ever heard it. “I’m a mess.”

“Isn’t everyone?”

“I… I know you’d never hurt me.”

Draco stilled. “You thought I was going to hurt you for burning dinner?”

Harry sighed. “No. I know you wouldn’t. But… it’s just… a hard habit to break.”

Draco closed his eyes and held Harry tighter. “Your muggles…”

He nodded, his glasses digging into Draco’s collarbone. His fingers were tangled in Draco’s shirt, clenching and unclenching. 

“What did they do?” Draco cleared his throat, trying to clear out his anger. “What would they have done?”

Harry shrugged and seemed to snuggle closer, like he wanted to burrow into his arms. Like that would make it easier to say. “Just scream, mostly. Maybe throw it at me. Or throw it on the floor near me and make me clear it up. It’s stupid. I’ve had worse, obviously, I don’t know why I still get so ridiculous about it.”

Draco pressed his lips to his temple. “You do because you do,” he said. “There’s no point beating yourself up over why. I wish I could take it all away but I can’t.” He sighed and squeezed him a little tighter. “I can just try to be here for you.”

Harry sniffed, his shoulders trembling. Draco could hear the notes in his breath, like he was trying so hard to stop himself from crying, or like he was trying to hide just how hard he was crying. Draco bit his lip and closed his eyes to stop them prickling - Harry needed him to be the strong one today. He stroked his hair over and over until the timer went off on the oven. 

Harry jerked back, trying to pull out of Draco's arms, but he squeezed him tighter. "Go sit down, love," he said softly. "I'll make eggs to go with the chips, we've got another frying pan."

He relaxed again slightly, hunching his shoulders and pressing into Draco's collarbone. "Why are you so good to me?" he asked in a whisper.

"I'm not," he sighed. "Your standards are just really fucking low, darling."

Harry giggled and pulled back, turning his face to hide as he wiped his eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice slightly high pitched.

"Am I sure your standards are low? In this situation, yes, I'm not sure how you ended up with this level of quality, honestly." He gestured to himself, exaggerating his boyhood sneer and looking down his nose at the man he loved, just to make him laugh.

"Arse," he grinned. He looked up at Draco through damp eyelashes. "Thank you."

Draco pushed away from the counter and cupped his jaw in both hands, kissing him on the forehead. "I'm sorry for scaring you," he said.

Harry's hands came up to hold his hips. "I'm sorry I'm so pathetic."

"Don't do that," he said firmly. "You're not pathetic. They were, for treating a child so awfully. I don't want you to have to feel like that in our house, so... I'm sorry. I'll try not to overreact like that again."

Harry squeezed him tight, pressed in closer, his shoulders shaking just slightly again, and Draco cradled his body, pressing his cheek to Harry's forehead as he cried. The chips got cold behind them.


End file.
